GrownUp Christmas List
by CeliaEquus
Summary: At the Ministry's yuletide gathering Hermione sings a song. But will she have the courage to confess her feelings to 'Santa? Disclaimer: the song belongs to David Foster and Linda-Thompson Jenner, and Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm neither.


"Grown-Up Christmas List"

It had become a tradition – in the lighter times after the war had ended – for the Ministry of Magic to hold a Christmas party. The Minister would dress as Santa Claus, and the newest employee would have to sing something. There were more traditions involved, but those two were the most noteworthy.

This year, the newest employee was Hermione Granger, who had been there for several months. Her friends had all ribbed her for having to provide the entertainment for the evening, even if it was just one song. It had taken her awhile to come up with something, and to practise with the band.

At first, she had considered something along the lines of a love song; because if you can't confess your feelings to someone at Christmas, when can you do it? But she would rather not have an audience when she – low-level Ministry worker and ex-war heroine Hermione Granger – told the Minister that she loved him, especially as they had so little interaction that it was quite unbelievable. That was assuming she could even get near him tonight to say anything, let alone… let alone _that_.

So she settled on something fitting after their first year and half since Voldemort's defeat.

She climbed onto the stage in the Atrium, having waited until most people were too tipsy to form a proper judgement in regards to her singing abilities, or lack thereof.

"Go get `em, Hermione!" Harry whispered from nearby. She glared at him. It was partly his fault that she had started late at the Ministry. Noticing that the crowd was starting to look at her, she clear her throat, and nodded to the band.

"_Do you remember me?_

_I sat upon your knee._

_I wrote to you with childhood fantasies._

_Well, I'm all grown-up now,_

_And still need help somehow._

_I'm not a child but my heart still can dream._

_So here's my life-long wish,_

_My grown up Christmas list,_

_Not for myself, but for a world in need._"

She had their attention now. She glanced over to Santa's 'throne', and took a deep breath, heart pounding, when she saw that Minister Scrimgeour was watching intently.

"_No more lives torn apart_

_And wars would never start_

_And time would heal all hearts._

_And everyone would have a friend_

_And right would always win_

_And love would never end._

_This is my grown up Christmas list._"

The first chorus over, she felt her confidence grow. At least she was in tune, having used a Transposing Charm on the score. It was also in an easier key for the band, which endeared her to them.

"_As children we believed_

_The grandest sight to see_

_Was something lovely wrapped beneath our tree._

_Well, heaven surely knows_

_That packages and bow_

_Can never heal a hurting human soul._"

Gods, how she felt the meaning behind the lyrics. Hearts didn't come wrapped in paper and ribbon. Not that she was asking for a return of her feelings… although that would be a wonderful Christmas gift. The best.

"_No more lives torn apart_

_And wars would never start_

_And time would heal all hearts._

_And everyone would have a friend_

_And right would always win_

_And love would never end._

_This is my grown up Christmas list._"

Her audience was completely silent, listening to the sincerity behind the words as Hermione felt tears come to her eyes. They had lost too many in the war; even one person was one person too many.

"_What is this illusion called?_

_The innocence of youth._

_Maybe only in our blind belief_

_Can we ever find the truth._"

What if he thought that they were juvenile feelings? Her voice hitched on the last word of the bridge, and she saw that some people were actually crying.

Making eye contact with the Minister, she sang the last chorus.

"_No more lives torn apart_

_And wars would never start_

_And time would heal all hearts._

_And everyone would have a friend_

_And right would always win_

_And love would never end, oh._

_This is my grown up Christmas list._

_This is my only life-long wish._

_This is my grown up Christmas list._"

The music faded, and she finally relaxed. It didn't matter what people thought; the song was over, and she could now run and hide.

Suddenly, there was a burst of applause, and she was forced to bow as people cheered and stamped their feet. Some even called for an encore, but she shook her head. She remembered to acknowledge the band, and then hurried off the stage.

"Well done, `Mione!" Ron said, giving her a hug. "Didn't know you had it in you."

"I'm a know-it-all, remember?" she asked dryly. Harry immediately shoved a glass of wine into her hand. She grimaced as she drank. "Ugh. I hate wine."

"I know, but anything stronger will probably knock you out," Harry said. "What about your last birthday? Ah, of course. You wouldn't remember _that_, since you…"

"Passed out after one Firewhiskey," she said, scowling at him. "I'm guessing the punch is spiked?"

"Yes."

"Pumpkin juice?"

"Dunno. We didn't spike it."

Hermione smacked both of them on the shoulder. "I'm going to disappear now," she said.

"What? Why?" Ron asked.

"Because I hate performing in public. Now go and enjoy yourselves. Find some mistletoe or something."

Ron and Harry flushed as they looked at each other. Hermione was the only one who knew about their relationship, and had been bugging them to come out sometime. At least if they did it now it would draw the attention away from her.

"Hermione?"

"Hello, Dean," she said, greeting her co-worker. "Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas. Have you forgotten about the other tradition?"

"Well, forgive me for being a bit preoccupied with having to sing in front of people I barely know," she said, crossing her arms. "Something else I should know about?"

"Uh, we didn't want to tell you," Harry said, looking at the floor.

"Harry Potter, if you forgot to tell me something important…" She trailed off, and sighed. "Do I have to do anything else?" she asked.

"Yeah," Dean said. "You have to go and sit on Santa's lap." He shrugged as her jaw dropped. "It's tradition. The photo goes into the Ministry newsletter."

"Oh dear," she said. "I'd forgotten. Better go and do it now." She pulled her shoulders back, trying to look confident. "Bye."

While she made her way through the throng, Hermione kept being delayed by people wanting to wish her congratulations. She didn't start blushing until she had emerged on the other side and saw 'Santa'.

"Bloody hell and damnation," she muttered. If Harry and Ron had heard her swearing, they would have died of shock. Probably just as well that she was alone.

Scrimgeour waved her forward, and she slowly stepped up onto the small platform. She glanced back, but very few people were watching. They were steadily getting drunker, and she hoped that most of them would forget the night.

"Come on, Miss Granger," the Minister said. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she made her way to his chair. She was unsure where to sit until he patted his knee. Colin Creevey came forward with his camera, and – bright red with embarrassment (and something else) – she perched herself awkwardly on Scrimgeour's lap. She gasped as he rearranged her, one hand on her outer leg and his other arm around her waist. It fit so well into the small of her back that she couldn't help smiling. He pulled her close, and Hermione looked up at him in surprise. He was gazing back down at her.

The sound of the camera's shutter caused them both to look around, some kind of spell broken. There was a flash, and then Colin lowered his camera.

"Brilliant!" he said. "Stay there just a bit longer so that I can get some extra shots. You know," he added for Hermione's benefit, "so there's some choice."

"Of course," she said, her cheeks getting hotter the longer she was pressed against her secret crush.

"So you have no other wish this Christmas?" Scrimgeour asked.

"N-no, sir."

"Are you lying to me, Miss Granger?"

"Well, I mean, there are the usual books and things," she said, waving her hand vaguely. They posed for a second picture, and then relaxed after it was taken.

"Just one more should do it," Colin said.

"Nothing else you want?" the Minister said. Hermione looked up at him, and bit her lower lip when she realised just how close their faces were.

"Nothing my friends can give me," she whispered.

"Are you certain, Hermione?"

Her heart was doing a tango in her chest, and her breathing quickened.

"I'm rather keen on getting rid of this unrequited love I feel," she said, voice cracking.

"For whom?"

"Y-you."

"Get ready!" Colin called, raising his camera. "Last one."

"Consider the 'unrequited' part gone," Scrimgeour said. He pulled her tight against his body and pressed his lips to hers just as Colin snapped the picture. Neither noticed the bright flash of light as Hermione wrapped her arms around the Minister's shoulders, returning his kiss with every ounce of her love. He bent her over his arm as their lips blended, making his own feelings perfectly clear.

Colin was the only one who saw this, as everyone else was busy looking at Harry Potter and Ron Weasley snogging under a spring of mistletoe.

"Well…" He trailed off, and left them to it. It seemed that more than one kiss would be going into the Ministry newsletter. Heck, he could make a fortune selling these photos to _The Daily Prophet_!

Happy Christmas, Colin, he thought to himself as he pushed his way through to the mistletoe, camera at the ready.

**

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Don't know where a mercenary Colin Creevey came from. Ah well.

**What didst you think of this, fair readers? This story is for the Christmas Challenge 2010, where I chose the pairing and the song. Hope you enjoyed it! My other reply to this challenge is "Don't Save It All For Christmas Day".**


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